Heart of the Pack
by PenPatronus
Summary: Derek has a chance to stop the kanima, but it will cost Stiles' life. Which will he choose? Pre-slash, friendship, drama, hurt / comfort. AU of the season 2 finale, "Master Plan."


**Summary:** Derek has a chance to stop the kanima, but it will cost Stiles' life. Which will he choose? Pre-slash, friendship, drama, hurt / comfort. AU of the season 2 finale, "Master Plan."

**Heart of the Pack  
**PenPatronus

Scott, Derek, Isaac and Peter stood in a circle around the Argent's mailbox. A red strip of fabric hung from its handle. Scott ripped it off and frowned after he sniffed it. "What's this scent?" he asked Derek.

Derek took the clothing and pressed it against his nose. His eyebrows closed ranks and the tendons lacing his neck flexed. "Fear," he said. "Stiles was terrified." The four men stared off in four different directions at more scraps from Stiles' shredded lacrosse jersey left on the ground or tossed on bushes. Gerard had left breadcrumb trails heading north, south, east and west. He wanted them to find Stiles, but he wanted the search to take time, and he wanted them to split up.

"Derek, we don't have time for this," Peter growled. "We need to focus on Jackson."

"Stiles is my best friend!" Scott snapped.

"So?" Peter shrugged. "Why should we care? He's not even a werewolf. And he's probably already dead. Come on, Derek." Peter walked towards Derek's car but the alpha didn't follow. "Derek?"

Derek rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, then pocketed it and said, "I'm staying."

"_What_?"

"I owe him. He saved my life."

"And how many times have you saved his?"

Derek glanced at Scott. Moisture hovered in the corners of the young werewolf's eyes. Derek clenched his jaw and raised his chin at Peter. "He's a friend."

"This is exactly what Gerard wants," Isaac pointed out. He leaned against the mailbox and stuffed his fists in his pockets. "If he wanted to hurt Scott, he would've taken Allison or his mom. If he wanted to hurt Derek, he would've taken you, Scott. But he took Stiles."

Scott and Derek exchanged confused looks.

"Don't you get it?" Isaac asked. "He wants to hurt all of you – all of us – so he took the one person we would _all_ drop everything to help."

Peter nodded, knowingly. "Because he's an innocent."

"_Because he's Stiles_," Derek snapped. A second later he looked surprised at his own reaction.

Isaac continued. "My point is, Stiles may not be a werewolf but he's the heart of this pack."

"Oh, give me a break." Peter rolled his eyes and opened the car door. "Fine, go save your damsel in distress. I'm going to get a drink." He got in and drove off without a glance back.

Scott breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks," he said to Derek. "I –"

"I'm doing this for Stiles, not for you," Derek said. "Now, you two go southeast. Try to keep both trails in sight but stick to the middle so that you can pick up Stiles' scent in any direction. I'll head northwest."

"Ok. Howl if you find him." Scott motioned for Isaac to follow and the two wolves sprinted off.

Derek's eyes flamed red and he dropped to all fours. He took off like a bullet towards the next red strip. As he ran he passed fabric that was red not just because of Beacon Hills' school colors, but because of blood. The mix of Stiles' blood and Stiles' fear made Derek go even faster. His nose led him north into one of the forests adjacent to the town. He sensed Jackson in kanima form, and then an unfamiliar human scent that must have been Gerard. He passed one shoe, and then the other. One sock, and then the other. He was on the right track.

He reached the end of the trail three miles into the woods. He stopped just outside of a valley and peered around the trees. Gerard had a whole show waiting for him.

Stiles hung by his wrists from a low tree branch. His left cheek and forehead leaked blood and bruises were visible on his arms and legs. He was barefoot and only wore his lacrosse shorts and a tight white t-shirt. A dozen adhesive electrodes dotted his body and their wires connected to a nearby generator. Gerard stood a few yards on Stiles' left, leaning against an idling truck. And on his left was the kanima. Alive, kicking and hissing at Derek.

"Come on out!" Gerard called. "I'm not getting any younger!" Derek growled and revealed himself. He took two steps toward Stiles but Gerard yelled again. "Not so fast!" He showed Derek a remote control in his hand the size of a pack of cards. "Don't move or I'll fry your friend like a Thanksgiving turkey."

A deep, grating rumble bubbled up from Derek's chest. The sound woke up Stiles.

"Scott…" Stiles spit out a mouthful of blood and coughed. "_Derek_?"

Derek's throat went dry at the sight. His fingernails extended even further and his heartbeat quickened.

Stiles struggled to take a deep breath. Lines of pain divided his usually smooth features. "Derek, don't choose me. Don't choose –" Stiles' scream interrupted his own sentence. Gerard pressed the remote and the generator spit electricity through every millimetre of Stiles' body. His spine arched and his body buckled as every muscle and nerve convulsed. Derek had heard plenty of loud screams in his life but he'd never heard a werewolf make a sound like Stiles did.

Gerard turned the machine off almost immediately, leaving Stiles limp and gasping. Derek clenched his fists so tight that he drove his own nails into his skin. He flashed back to Kate's tortures. It was agony for him, it must have been beyond pain for Stiles. "I. Will. Kill. You," he growled.

Gerard smiled patiently. "Derek. You should be thanking me. I'm about to give you a great opportunity."

Derek lifted his foot to step closer but froze when Gerard raised the remote again. "What opportunity?"

Gerard's body language mirrored a circus ringmaster. "I'm going to electrocute your friend, here," he said, pointing to his right. "He won't survive more than ten seconds of this voltage. When I hit the button, Jackson here," he pointed to his left, "is going to start running. You have a choice to make: you can either save the boy or catch the monster."

Stiles whispered on the brink of Derek's wolf hearing, "Derek, Jackson could kill another dozen people, maybe hundreds…"

Gerard climbed into his truck. "I'm going to count to three, and then hit the button, Derek, the choice is yours."

"Don't choose me," Stiles begged. "Derek, don't choose me."

The truck door slammed shut.

Derek shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

Before he met Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski choices like this were easy. He would choose what was best for the greater good. An individual's life wasn't worth several others, even if those lives were nameless strangers. But, back then, everyone was a nameless stranger to Derek Hale. He was rarely around people like them. Now, especially with his sister gone, Stiles was the face – the embodiment – of what he fought for.

The kanima screeched.

"Don't choose me," Stiles whispered one last time.

The generator roared to life.

Stiles screamed.

Derek opened his eyes. The sunlight momentarily blinded him but all he needed was his nose. He started to run.

To Stiles.

Derek snarled and broke the wires with a single swipe of his claws. Then he jumped to the tree branch, cut the rope holding Stiles and dropped to the ground just in time to catch Stiles under the knees and shoulders before he hit it. With gentleness he didn't know he had, Derek carried Stiles away from the tree and lay him down on a patch of thick grass. He ripped off the electrodes one by one and tossed them over his back.

And then – without thinking – he gathered Stiles in his arms and held him tight against his chest.

That was when the paralysis started.

Derek looked at his hands and saw that his fingers were soaked in kanima venom. Gerard spread venom on the ropes and wires to handicap Derek if he decided to rescue Stiles. Derek collapsed onto his side and Stiles started to roll out of his arms. Jackson screeched, then. He had run away, but was coming back with every claw aimed at the two boys.

Stiles' eyes fluttered open. He focused on Derek's face, inches from his, then on the kanima creeping up behind him. He reached out with a trembling hand and clenched his fist around Derek's sleeve.

"D-Derek?"

"Close your eyes, Stiles," Derek whispered.

Derek could only wait for the claws to rip his spine in half.

Isaac and Scott dropped into the valley like dynamite into water. The kanima was so surprised by the attack that it barely put up a fight. After it failed to paralyze them it retreated after Gerard deeper into the woods. Scott raced over to his friends.

Derek frowned at a sudden realization. "I didn't howl…"

"You didn't need to. We heard Stiles from miles away," said Scott. He reverted to his human face and knelt beside his best friend. "_Stiles_?"

Stiles raised a forefinger and waved. "Alive."

Scott wrapped Stiles in a half-hug across his shoulders, then turned to Derek. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," said Derek. "Gerard got away. Jackson got away."

Stiles suddenly reached up and wrapped his arm around Derek's neck. "Thank you," he whispered. "You chose me."

"I…" A blush peeked out of Derek's cheeks. "I think I always will."

**The End**


End file.
